The Multiverse: A Necron's Adventures
by Mighty White
Summary: This is the first of a Series of short stories, which follow Trazyn the Infinite and his small army of lychguard in several adventures as they attempt to find their way back to their own universe(and acquire a few relics on the way!) Enjoy! Please review and include any ideas for what universe the next episode should be set in, this is for you, so please give your thoughts! Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

**_Prologue_**

Curiosity does not come naturally to a Necron. Most members of this ancient race lack any understanding, or desire for understanding of anything outside of their assigned tasks.

So when a Necron shows interest and curiosity in something, then the following results are certain to be interesting. This story you are about to be told will show you things from the viewpoint of the Curator and Lord of Solemnace, Trazyn the Infinite as he meets several strange new creatures and people after he discovers an unusual artefact...

**_Chapter One_**

It had been an interesting time for Trazyn. A campaign on the tomb world of Carnac had recently taken place, which he had involved himself in at the request of the Necron Lord Anrakyr the Traveller. Trazyn thought to himself for a moment about the actions of Anrakyr; _They really are ponderous. Why would he spend so much time and expend such effort on such a pointless vanity crusade? So far his actions have yielded nought but the destruction of his forces time and time again, even more disturbing is everything that he destroys that should be preserved. It's insanity. _Trazyn shook his head in disgust, but in the end it mattered little. Even Anrakyr would be preserved in his gallery, his actions and deeds, no matter how horrific, being immortalised for the rest of time. Trazyn turned his thoughts back to the present moment. The acquisition of Anrakyr would have to wait. It was time to land.

As the starship docked into one of the many ports of Solemnace Trazyn ordered for a team of Spyders to meet him once he departed the transport, for only they had the combined might and careful precision needed to move the Spirit Shrine recovered from the Eldar Exodites on Carnac. _At least something good came of this, _he thought. Trazyn was always loathe to leave Solemnace for anything other than acquiring a piece for his gallery, especially something as pointless as a war! The Spirit Shrine would make an excellent addition to his 'Eldar psychic marvels' collection, though.

As the Spyders took away the Shrine to it's appropriate holding place (under the EXTREMELY close eye of their master) a small, single Scarab bumbled it's way to Trazyn, it's wings chittering enthusiastically. Trazyn reached down to it without ever turning his head from the crew that was shifting his beloved new Spirit Shrine. The Scarab was a particularly special model, although not too difficult to replicate: It monitored the systems of the Gallery whilst Trazyn was out on business. While a Wraith would normally be the one to perform this task, with a scarab carrying out this duty, Trazyn could manually upload the data from the Scarab to his mind, so no detail would be missed out.

The Scarab climbed onto Trazyn's outstretched palm and linked itself to him. _Let's see what has happened in my absence, _he thought. _Hmm, two malfunctions, unusual. Both Wraith units, both were restrained. _That was a relief. He would have smiled but his expression was constantly fixed in a menacing glare. _The second unit, however, destroyed two exhibits. _Irritation flared. _The first damaged item was a knife which belonged to the Kroot Shaper who struck the bargain with the Tau when they were at war with the Orks. Unique but it can be replaced, I suppose. The other damaged item was an ancient Necrontyr Vase. _Trazyn's hand closed fiercely, crushing the small Scarab within, as it gave out a small electronic squeal. He sprinkled the shattered remains of the robot on the floor in disgust. _That vase was priceless and will be incredibly difficult to replace. _He turned to the Captain as he stepped out of the mighty vessel, "Gather two phalanxes of Lychguard from the Carnac force," he said "it looks like we'll be returning for more spoils."

The ship was underway, a return course to Carnac plotted into the ships A.I mainframe. There really wasn't that much need for a Captain, it was more a case of tradition, carried over from the Time of Flesh. The so called 'Captain' merely plotted courses and ordered individual units around to repair the ship when necessary. They rarely piloted the ship, only in cases where the need was severe, such as a malfunction of the ship's A.I.

"My Lord," the Captain spoke in his dull, emotionless tone, "We are receiving an unknown signal from the nearby moon." Trazyn moved towards the helm. "What does it say?" He spoke to the Captain, with only a slight hint of a curious tone. "It seems to be a request for help. It was not here before, so it must have activated when we passed by the first time, but we had travelled out of range by that time. It is Necron in origin," the captain motioned to the screen displaying the message, along with a Necrontyr sigil, "I do not recognise the dynasty though, my Lord. Apologies." Trazyn waved the apology away. "That is no problem," said Trazyn, his curiosity piqued, "take us in to find out."

The ship descended to the surface of the moon, to discover the source of the ominous distress call, but what was to follow could not be expected, not even by the great Orikan the Diviner himself.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Twenty-thousand years ago...**_

There were several loud bangs as the door was forced down, and a horde of beasts all different shapes, colours and sizes flooded through the giant, gaping hole they had made. The Daemons had been trying to gain access to the central chamber for days and the facility's security measures had managed to hold them at bay for a long time. But the forces of chaos were relentless in their assault. It seemed that for every Daemon that fell, another three would materialise and hack to pieces the aggressor.

Bloody chunks were flying everywhere as a the hallways were spattered with gore, but even for all this the Necron countermeasures could only battle the Daemons for so long. They would be worn down eventually. A Wraith engaged a small pack of bloodletters, pinning them down with it's whip coils whilst it's bladed arms when to work, tearing slicing arms from bodies and severing heads. Another Daemon appeared behind the Wraith and launched a gout of blue fire, reducing it to a steaming pile of melted metal in seconds. Scarabs were crushed underfoot, Warriors had their heads severed and and the Spyders were torn apart, piece by piece. The Daemons had swept aside the resistance and now proceeded to claim their prize...

**_The present day..._**

The transport touched down sluggishly on the planet's surface close to the source of the transmission, as per Trazyn's orders: There was no time for an exploration shuttle! They needed to be in there now! Trazyn stepped down from the descending ramp, surrounded by a Cadre of the finest Triarch Praetorians, who were sweeping the air with their Rods of Covenant, daring anything to come at their master. Following The Curator and his personal guard, were eighty Lychguard, poised an ready to strike at a moments notice. Trazyn scanned the area in front of him for something, anything, that could clue him in to the whereabouts of this mysterious station. A flicker of light as something rippled in the distance. "There." Trazyn pointed to the disturbance and the Praetorians complied. At once they raised their weapons and unleashed furious bolts of energy in unison. The energy bolts hit a force-field and were dispelled, crackling, over it's surface. This did nothing to dissuade the Praetorians, they simply redoubled their efforts and fired barrage after barrage of energy bolts until the shield could take no more and fell before their assault. A large metal platform, about 80 foot across, was now exposed. The small, but formidable, force strode fearlessly towards the platform, with Trazyn leading the way. The secrets of this place would be discovered by him and no others.

As they reached the platform Trazyn looked around, confused. There was nothing here, save for the platform itself, which had nine small indents on it. Trazyn turned to the commander of his Praetorian bodyguard, "Form a perimeter and keep watch," he ordered, "there is something at work here." The commander nodded and replied, "By your word, my Lord." Trazyn turned away and moved towards the markings for further study. Eight of them were identical, but the ninth was significantly larger than the rest. _How odd,_ he thought, I_ recognise eight of these markings, but I cannot think, for the un-life of me, where from. It looks as though they may be for... _Trazyn turned to the nearest Praetorian. "You," he addressed it, "do you think there is something familiar about these?" The Praetorian stepped around and stared silently. Without warning it slammed the firing end of it's weapon into the hole and discharged a blast from it. A vein of energy not previously visible pulsed brightly and then faded. The Praetorian explained, "This is an ancient seal used by the Silent King, before the Great Sleep. Only A blast from a rod of covenant or the energy from the staff of the Silent King," It pointed at the larger hole, "may open this. Eight rods will have to be entered and fired in unison to activate the platform." Trazyn stood up. _The Silent King! This is bound to be an incredible find! _"Then get to it," he commanded, "I must know what is down there." The Praetorian bowed his head and went to inform the others.

The platform began to descend in response to the energy it was supplied with, from the Praetorian's weaponry. Trazyn felt excited (Or as close to "feeling" excited as a soulless killing machine can get) at the prospect of what may be down in the depths of this outpost. He had acquired a great deal of secrets from other races, for his gallery: The personal journal of Commissar Yarrick, detailing the true nature of the events of the war on Armageddon, as well as a holo-recording explaining why the Flame Falcons chapter of the Space Marines was really exterminated. These are just two examples of the many secrets of the universe hidden within Solemnace. Never, though, had Trazyn managed to obtain any of the secrets of his own race. They were all too well guarded within the deepest reaches of their respective tomb worlds, but as the lift began to draw to a screeching halt, Trazyn knew this would no longer remain so.

The heavily armed group stepped off the platform. A long dark corridor stretched out before them, unusually silent for a recently activated complex. No Wraiths were slithering about, maintaining systems. This place seemed truly devoid of anything. Trazyn was not put off though: Something activated the distress signal, so there had to be something worth protecting in here, plus the Praetorian's words about the Silent King still played on his mind. He activated his staff and it gave off a brilliant light that illuminated the large corridor. Trazyn observed the now visible walls: They were a deep black and seemed to be made up of slabs, similar to the sides of a monolith. The slabs were constantly shifting and that was when he realised.

There was something lurking within the shimmering surface of the walls.

Trazyn turned to his force. "Be ready for battle!" He called out in his grating robotic tone. As the Lychguard raised their warscythes defensively, the Praetorians encircled Trazyn to defend him from any threats. He raised his Obliterator to strike the moving beings that dwelled in the walls... "I wouldn't advise on that. Not unless you want to be torn apart by a horde of savage Daemons." A voice resonated around the cavernous corridor. "My units are more than capable of handling a few Daemons. Who are you and why should I trust you?" Trazyn replied. The voice ignored the question "Not these kind of Daemons. Come to the end of the corridor. You will find a door. Do not ignore my instructions. They will awake soon." Trazyn weighed up his options and decided. The owner of the voice was obviously the one who activated the distress signal, so it would be wise to heed his words; then there was also the fact that wherever the voice originated from was probably where all of the additions to his gallery would be held. "Stand down." He said to his forces. Now he addressed the voice, "Ok. We are coming down. Be ready to receive us." There was no reply but a white light appeared from the end of the corridor. "Stay on your guard." He told the troops. They moved warily towards the doorway, constantly eyeing the walls.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's notes:**

**My thanks to those who've reviewed this series. It's only been going for a couple days or so, but it has yielded positive responses so far, so I plan to continue with it. The next chapter will be much more interesting than the previous ones. Anyway, here's what you've been after. Please enjoy.**

**Just a quick update, sorry for this but I've been away for a while and am currently very busy with college, so chances are that the next chapter won't be up for a while. Please be patient as I WILL be updating this story, although I am unsure when. Thanks. **

* * *

The facility was everything Trazyn had hoped it would be, and more. All manner of trinkets were dotted around the room, the historical value of some of these things alone was fantastic! The first ever pocket dimension projector (Made countless aeons ago) was stored here, alongside several other fascinating inventions: Portable eternity gates/dimensional corridors flickered into life, specialised Scarabs demonstrated how they made use of pocket dimensions to get INSIDE of hostile infantry and vehicles alike and chew them to pieces. A unique form of phase shifter which could be fired at walls and cover to render them useless to hide or protect what was behind them was showing it's power to those who would observe it. But nobody had been around to observe these wonders of technology for thousands of years. _I will have to take these with me, _Thought Trazyn, _these must be preserved for their own sake._

"Incredible aren't they?" said a voice as it's owner stepped out from the shadows. It was an ancient looking Cryptek who wielded an ornate staff not akin to any the designs of staves of other Cryptek Conclaves. "Somewhat, I suppose." Trazyn hid his wonder well, which wasn't particularly difficult as he could only speak in four different tones of voice. The Cryptek laughed in response, which surprised every other Necron in the room. "Did you just... laugh?!" Trazyn asked shocked. Surprise was very rare in Necrons, but then again, so was any display of emotion other than disdain. "Of course," Replied the old Necron "The immaterium is a realm made up of the emotions of the lesser races, so to truly comprehend it, one must have emotional responses programmed into their minds. The Silent King understood this was necessary and ensured that our work was kept secret." That got Trazyn's attention. _So... My Praetorian was correct. The Silent King was involved here..._ "What was your work exactly? Who are you?" He had a lot of questions that needed answers. The Cryptek chuckled again and Trazyn shuffled about uncomfortably. The sound of Necron laughter was rough and quite... Disturbing. "All in good time," the Cryptek replied, "as for your second question I can tell you that my name is Voydonn, leader of the Conclave of the Harbingers of Reality" He paused then added, "at least I was. Now I am all that remains..." He sounded sorrowful, if not, remorseful. "Anyway! Follow me! I have something to show you." Voydonn chirped. He raised a hand at the wall and two slabs slid apart to reveal another room. "Come." He demanded "You will like this."

The next room was significantly smaller than the previous one and contained only a single pedestal. Upon this pedestal was a red glowing orb on which were two indents the shape of hands. Trazyn was transfixed on the orb. Quickly he tore his gaze away from the mysterious object. "So, Voydonn, what was the nature of your work? You also have not asked my name yet." He said impatiently. _We may not be creatures of flesh any longer but we are both intelligent beings. A modicum of decency is not too much too ask for, I think. _Voydonn turned to him, "I have not asked your name because I already knew it." Trazyn was once again taken aback. This Ancient scientist was full of surprises. "How?" he asked. "The Daemons whisper of you. They say you have taken many things that belong to them." Voydonn replied, his tone almost accusatory. "I have. What of it?" Trazyn retorted. "Nothing. They are filthy creatures, who deserve no respect, even less than the younger races." Voydonn replied with innocence. "Alright," Trazyn concluded, satisfied. "But what of the Daemons? Why are they here, and why did you send out the distress signal now?" Voydonn sighed, breathlessly. Another unusual expression for a Necron to make. "It is a long story. I would ask you to take a seat but... well there are none, and we are beings of metal. We do not tire."

So Voydonn explained to Trazyn about how the Silent King commissioned this secret order to research into the reality bending powers of the Warp, so they might better defend the Necron race against the threat they could not combat with normal sciences: The Daemonic host of the Warp. The group developed many common sciences in use by the Necrons: Pocket Dimensions, Gateways, Phase Shifters and even Gloom Prisms. "This whole facility is actually shielded by a prototype Gloom Prism array we developed," Voydonn revealed, "you see, we were attacked about twenty-thousand years ago by a horde of the Daemons. We were forced to use the prototype to keep them at bay." His voice was monotone for once, which comforted Trazyn. "That is why they are in the walls. The walls' slabs are highly resistant to energy, which is why they entered them: to hide from the field generated by the array. They are the elite of the Daemonic forces. Our rather meagre defences could not defeat them. It would take an entire army to vanquish them, and now that the array is de-activated they will be awakening soon." Trazyn asked surprised, "Why would you do that?" Voydonn explained, "The distress signal is emitted by a Superluminal Warp communications array, so the prototype interferes with it. It is of no consequence though. I only deactivated because I detected your ship, Trazyn, carrying a large force. You can call them in, they will defeat the Daemons and we can leave." Trazyn said nothing at first, then, "My army is back on Solemnace. The only military forces with me are my personal bodyguard." Voydonn let out another mechanical sigh, "Then there is only one course of action. We must use the Dimensional Transporter." He motioned to the orb, "I had not wanted to do this."

Slowly, he stepped towards the pedestal. "What is that, Voydonn?" Trazyn asked carefully. Voydonn replied, without turning around, "A way out. I will explain more afterwards but for now you will have to trust me." Carefully he grasped the orb with two hands and it began to shake violently, a large beam of energy fired out from the front an a shape began to form. A large red doorway. Nothing could be seen through it. "Why don't you just reactivate the Gloom Prism array? I will contact my ship, tell it to gather reinforcements and we can be out of here soon." Trazyn proposed grandly. Voydonn shook his head, "I cannot. The array was a prototype, not meant to run for such a long time. It burnt out when it was deactivated and cannot be repaired. I have had twenty-thousand years to think about this. There is no alternative." Trazyn was despondent at having to leave behind so many artefacts worth preservation, but accepted it. "Where does this doorway lead?" Voydonn informed Trazyn, "I do not know. There is no way of refining the transporter. Now stop asking questions and tell your Lychguard Commander that a quarter of them will have to remain behind to hold off the Daemons. The portal will take time to close, and we do not want to be followed. The rest my come with us. Hurry!" Trazyn did as was requested and ensured that twenty of his troopers would defend the opening. Then he gathered the rest and walked towards the portal. He could hear the cries as the hordes awoke after millennia of slumber. Voydonn had already stepped through. Trazyn took one last look around and thought of all the artefacts that lay behind him, and all those that lay ahead of the great, red portal in front of him.

And then he stepped through.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Sorry about how long it took to get this up. I really didn't enjoy writing it all that much. I tried to make it interesting but I'm not too sure of my success. This chapter is mainly just to set the scene and answer a few things. The next one will be up much more quickly than this one was though. Thanks for your patience. **_

Searing pain travelled through Trazyn's mind. He was unsure how such a thing was possible, as his mechanical body was supposed to be immune to any form of wear that would affect the living. His vision was blurred and whatever he could see was filled with red. He didn't think he could take much more, but then the feelings of pain ebbed. His vision returned to him, albeit slowly. Trazyn felt solid ground beneath his knees as he crashed into it and he felt his audio receptors re-adjusting to a standard tone and noise level. An uncomfortable dizziness still hung over him though, like a foul cloud. Slowly, he looked up to see a familiar figure standing over him. "Voydonn?" Trazyn croaked. The word only barely managed to find it's way out. The Cryptek outstretched his hand to provide assistance, but Trazyn swatted it away. "I do not need your help!" he spat and rose to his feet. Voydonn merely withdrew his hand and stood back, "Come," he said "the others will be coming through momentarily, and you should move out of the way." Trazyn looked him square in his 'eye'. "Fine. But you have a lot of questions to answer." Voydonn nodded slowly in response and with that, Trazyn stumbled away from the portal to find a place out of the way, where he could stand and ruminate about what exactly was happening right now.

Trazyn was trying to remain angry at Voydonn for placing him in this predicament, but he found he could not. Whenever he thought about what was happening he realised more and more that he did not actually understand what was happening. He really did need Voydonn's assistance. Eventually he swallowed his pride and called Voydonn over. "So," Voydonn said smugly, "now you want my help." Trazyn ignored his smugness and began his questioning "What is happening at the moment? Where are we?" Voydonn grew serious and took his time replying. He looked down, "I do not know. All I know is that we have crossed the barrier inbetween universes." Trazyn was surprised to hear that! _So, a new universe. A new universe means all new histories. And all new histories means all new artefacts to collect! I am going to enjoy this! _"So if we're in a new universe what is our first step?" Trazyn was unsure of what to do but although this was something new to Voydonn he was not so clueless. "Listen closely. Do you hear that?" Voydonn asked. Trazyn listened out for what the other Necron was talking about. He heard a clamour of voices and one booming voice cutting through them all. Then a large crash caught his attention. The last of his force came through the doorway grappling with a large daemon. The two rolled around the floor, with the daemon snarling and snapping, until the Lychguard managed to grasp it by the horns and, with tremendous effort, tear it's head in two. After the messy work was done it grasped it's warscythe and went to join the rest of it's squadron. Trazyn turned his attention back to Voydonn. "I hear the noise of lesser races. What of it? We should end them and continue on." Voydonn shook his head, "No. Not this time. We need their help." Trazyn scoffed at the notion "What help could they possibly offer us?" Voydonn continued "The machine is damaged," He held up the orb, "we cannot go anywhere until I repair it and find a more stable power source, which I'm willing to bet these people will be able to help with." Trazyn was not convinced, but Voydonn could sense this. "Come, let us observe them and I shall explain further."

As they went to the opening Trazyn had his first chance to really study his surroundings. The walls were made of a dark brown metal and looked fairly strong, although he wagered it quite possible that they would not be able to withstand a shot from a doomsday cannon, although realistically, very little could. The floor was made of a similar material, but mostly it was covered in sand. "Explain to me what this has to do with the silent king?" Trazyn asked. Voydonn did not turn his head to acknowledge the question and began: "You already know that my conclave researched into the warp," Trazyn nodded to confirm this, "but what I have not told you is about the Dimensional Transporter. You see, the king came to us and tasked us with developing a way to safely breach the immaterium. Our research led us to create a prototype, which was actually the predecessor to this device I now hold," He admired the orb proudly and then continued, "We tested to see if it worked and, much to our surprise, we found that it worked even better than we imagined. A hole was torn open and we sent a probe through, however what we did not expect was that when the tear closed, we lost contact with the probe. We repeated our experiment and had the same result each time. We eventually theorised that the opening did not just lead to another plane of reality, but an entirely different universe." Voydonn sighed and Trazyn cringed at the sound. "That is enough for now," Voydonn said, "we have business to attend to.

The pair stared out of the doorway, from the shadows. There were metal bars blocking their path but when the time came a hyperphase sword would make short work of them. What they were seeing was a vast arena covered in sand. There were hundreds of insectoid creatures jeering and booing at the arena which appeared to have three pillars, each of which had a person chained to it. There were two men and a woman. The scene looked like some sort of execution, as large animals advanced on the seemingly helpless humans. At the head of the viewing platform was an elderly man in a cape and what appeared to be a jumpsuit. At his side was something clad in blue and silver armour. "What do we do?" Trazyn asked, Extremely irate at being surrounded by hundreds of potentially deadly beings. Voydonn only stared and did not reply for a few seconds. "I intercepted some form of communications. It seemed primitive, but it was useful. There will be an attack soon, by what was being referred to as a 'clone trooper army' on this arena." Trazyn was growing impatient. "How does that help us then?" He snapped. Voydonn looked at him and he only chuckled, saying "just wait." Trazyn grumbled but let the matter be. He could tell by the way Voydonn spoke that it was going to be very interesting. Very interesting indeed.


End file.
